Running on Instinct
by randomnormality07
Summary: After the death of Carol Danvers, a mutant known as Hunter finds herself taking up her teacher's mantel as a mutant consultant for SHIELD. Neither party are prepared for everything that follows. Starts before IM1, canon until WS and AoU. Eventual Bucky/OFC, but not strictly romance story.
1. Prologue

**Running On Instinct**

 **Summary:**

After the death of Carol Danvers, a mutant known as Hunter finds herself taking up her teacher's mantel as a mutant consultant for SHIELD. Neither party are prepared for everything that follows.

 **Author's Note:**

I do not own any of the Marvel characters you may recognize, nor am I making any profit from this writing. This story is going to follow Hunter, and starts about a two years before the events of the first Iron Man movie. This will follow other movies, but will branch off of canon following the events of Winter Soldier and Ultron. While most of the Avengers story line follows the Marvel Cinematic Universe, all of the X-Men aspects are pulled from comic basis. Now, my original character is a neutrally alligned mutant, so some of her mutant friends are Xavier's, some of them are Brotherhood, and some of them are sold to the highest bidder (Deadpool is known to make visits as he passes through). So, you will be seeing more than just X-Men characters.

Also, this will eventually be a Bucky/OFC story, but will not center around romance. No, this is Hunter's story, and how she overcomes the difficulties her mutation provides her. Let me know what you guys think, leave a review. I like to hear constructive criticism, but do not bash my story. If you don't like it, don't read it.

* * *

 **Prologue  
** The Successor

* * *

When she was sixteen years old, Hunter had been brought to the Xaiver Mansion under what might have been considered duress. It's not like she had asked to be taken by a mad scientist by the name of Trask and experimented on. It's not like she had desired to be saved, in fact she had sometimes wished those stupid X-Men had left her behind for dead. Not that she was suicidal, but her mind wasn't exactly her own. Trask and his experiments had started _before_ her mutation had manifested. Most of it, that first year and a half, she can't remember.

It took a month for Hunter to gain some semblance of control. In that first month, she met the one person that would help her along her path. Carol Danvers. Not quite a member of the X-Men, but a powerhouse with a background with the military. Carol had seen something in Hunter, something the mutant herself hadn't been able to see. She offered to take Hunter under her wing, teach her how to gain control of herself and not allow her instincts to control her.

Carol had been the first person in her entire life that had looked at her without fear or disgust.

It hadn't been easy. The woman didn't walk on egg shells around Hunter, and didn't make it easy. She helped Hunter come out of her shell, but not enough to bring her out of her half-transitioned state. As a Feral-Shifter, Hunter didn't have it easy. Being a Feral alone wasn't easy; heightened senses made living in a mansion full of teenagers a living hell. Being a Shifter often caused her to shift between different forms; most questioning if the infamous Mystique had been her mother.

She wasn't.

Hunter was only capapble of taking on the forms of different animals, most of them predatorial animals. She usually kept to canine and feline breeds. Being so in-touch with animals made dealing with instincts difficult. Carol helped her indentify what instincts she was being pulled through and label them, help the human side of her deal with them. When it became too difficult, Carol had enlisted the help of her second teacher, another Feral by the name of Logan.

The infamous Wolverine never pulled his punches, physically or verbally. He told her how things were, and it was something she appreciated. He taught her how easy it was to register a person's emotional response; how to smell fear or arousal. He taught her how to listen for lies. He taught her how to channel the animalistic side of her, the extra senses that feel danger. He taught her discipline in a way that Carol couldn't.

During her time as a private student, she rarely met with other teenagers at Xavier's. She had formed an alliance with St. John Allerdyce ( _Call me Pyro_ ) before he had defected and chose to allign himself with the Brotherhood. She had been the only one to not take it personal. Xavier wasn't helping any of the older teens by treating them with kid gloves. You can't shield teenagers from the horrors of life. She had a mild acquaintanceship with a Southern Belle named Rogue, who never seemed bothered by the animal ears perched on her head, or the occasional tail she sported; always laughing at Hunter's morbid and cynical sense of humor.

Her first honest and true friend had been the one labeled as the most dishonest mutant of all.

Remy LeBeau, otherwise known as Gambit. Hunter had never understood why the two formed such a bond; maybe it was because they both couldn't be bothered to 'fight the good fight' without any other reason by someone's say so. Remy never batted an eye when Hunter displayed more animalistic needs; when she used to sneak into his room late in the evening and curl under his sheets for no other reason by a need for tactile touch. He never hesitated to brush a hand along her shoulder, or ruffle her hair. He never allowed rumors to sway him away from giving her what little comfort she desired.

Remy had become family, in a way that Carol and Logan had.

So it comes to no surprise that the twenty-two-year-old mutant now sits astride a wine-red Ducati just outside the iron gates of the Xavier Mansion. She had left the mansion at the age of eighteen and started a life outside of the mutant safe haven. She didn't feel a need to get pushed or swayed to joining the X-Men. She didn't even _like_ humans.

Not that she would go around murdering them to prove a point (The Brotherhood was a no-go as well).

Sulfur-gold eyes sweep over the distant mansion not-exactly hidden behind the iron bars. Heaving a sigh, a gloved hand presses against the white button of the intercom and a faint chime could be heard across the distance.

 _"Xavier's. Who may I ask is there?"_

Hunter rolls her eyes at the vaguely familiar voice, "Hunter."

There's a pause that sounds just as hesitant as it is, " _Oh? Are...you here to see the Professor?_ "

"No, I'm here t'have a cuppa with the bloody Queen of England," Hunter snarks, wondering if she had been around too many of her patrons for too long, "Just open the damn gate."

" _Like...no need to be rude."_

Hunter cringes as a familiar long-winded drag of metal-against-metal screeches through the air. Her fingers flex and unflex as she shakes back the shiver, the white-tipped black fox ears perched atop her windswept black hair twitch as the sound pierces her sensitive ears. As the gate parts, Hunter releases a soft sigh before making her way along the driveway. She isn't surprised when the garage door opens for her by the time she makes it to the mansion. Dropping the kickstand, she pockets her keys and barely has a moment to stand when familiar arms embrace her. The faint tension leaks out of her as the familiar aroma of cigarettes, spice and burboun fills her senses.

"S'good t'see ya, _Coeur_."

She doesn't hesitate to nuzzle her nose along his jawline and the length of his neck, animal instincts taking over as she scent marks her brother-in-all-blood. When she is satisfied and the last of her tension leaves her shoulders, Hunter pulls out of the embrace and offers her friend a small, but genuine smile.

"How's Rogue holdin' up?"

" _Mon Cher_ is nervous, not quite sure how ya react t'what happened. Remy tried t'tell her dat ya don't hold her responsible, but...ya know how Roguey be," Remy LeBeau says, shrugging dismissively as he tosses his arm over her shoulder, "Da Professor thought ya would be more comfortable wit' Remy as ya guide. No one is quite sure how ya handlin' Carol's death."

"Yes, because I make it a habit of curling into a ball of uncontrollable sobs," Hunter snarks, rolling her eyes. "Some of us aren't exactly wired like the rest of ya."

Which was true. One of the reasons Carol had chosen her as a student was because the woman had noticed Hunter's lack or emotional response. Hunter often, if not almost always, reacted out of instinct.

Hunter had lost her ability to react like a human _years_ ago.

Remy leads her through the Mansion, both of them ignoring the sideways looks and faint whispers. Even though it was publically acknowledged that Remy and Rogue were _it_ for each other, the close proximity the two pseudo-siblings shared was often viewed with less platonic ideals. So what if Hunter often slept in Remy's bed barely clothed whenever she was called to Xavier's? Why did kisses on foreheads and cheeks have to be something more than platonic? Is it truly impossible for people of opposite sex to be just friends? While Remy was an attractive man, and she found his red-on-black eyes to be exceptionally beautiful, Hunter never saw him as a possible mate.

Coming to a stop outside of Xavier's office, Remy presses a soft kiss to her temple before leaving her. She knocks on the door, despite the certainty that Xavier already knows of her presence outside the door. Hearing the faint voice call her to enter, she pushes her way into the room and carefully shuts the door.

"Thank you for coming on such short notice, Hunter." Professor Charles Xavier greets.

Yes, please, no need to stand on ceremony, Hunter remarks sarcastically in the safety of her thoughts, "Last I checked, _gov_ ," She doesn't bother hiding her sarcasm toward the man, "Carol's funeral was two weeks ago. Don't recall there bein' much need for ya callin' me here."

"As you know, Ms. Danvers selected you to be her primary student," She's pretty sure he gets the wordless 'no shit' from the sardonic quirk of her eyebrow, "Ms. Danvers held the position as a Mutant Liasion and Consultant with an agency known as SHIELD. It seems as though Ms. Danvers had selected you to take her place, should anything happen to keep her from doing so on her own." Xavier motions to a plain folder he slides across his desk, "I know you have no intentions of taking a place on my team," She scoffs mentally, "So, Ms. Danvers chose you as a possible candidate."

She doesn't hesitate to flip open the folder, only to locate a blank, seal envelope lying on top of the papers. Looking it over, she sees there has been no tampering, so she breaks the seal and unfolds the handwritten letter. The slightly blocky handwriting familiar, just as was the faint scent of honey and coconut drifts from the paper.

 _Hiya Runt!_

 _If you're reading this, I am most likely dead. I know, I know, the world is bound to be a lot less marvelous without me in it, but I will have no problem coming back to beat you into the ground if you're crying over this. Remember, death is the only constant life has to offer anyone._

 _I chose you to act as my successor. I knew from the moment I saw you that you were different than other mutants. You didn't want to waste your time fighting against mutants and humans alike, trying to get to that distant future where all live harmoniously. No. You'd rather put your life on the line for the survival of all._

 _Trust me, I get it. It's one of the reasons why I refused to be a part of the X-Men. I may not agree with Magneto's insistances to eradicate humans from existance, but I never planned on fighting other mutants to save the lives of a bunch of bigoted assholes._

 _I chose you because there was no one else I could see taking my place._

 _SHIELD is a secret agency that protects the world from 'other-worldly' situations. You won't be fighting humans or mutants. You'll be fighting things that the X-Men will never face. SHIELD knows that I have someone on retainer in the chance of my death, so they will most likely be expecting you. At the end of this letter there is a numer for you to call, ask for Coulson._

 _Now, for the feelings talk. I want you to know that if I had ever had a child, I would have hoped she had been half of the person you are. You still have a lot to learn, and I'm sure you'll face some of your own demons in the future, but you should always remember that even without the backing of the X-Men, you have made connections of your own. You have people that will help you in your endevours. Don't cut them out._

 _Also, try not to mention most of them to SHIELD. I weep for the day SHIELD has to deal with someone like that Wilson character you frequently play darts with._

 _Keep your head on straight and stick to your instincts. They've never steered you wrong yet, and they never will. Don't be afraid to embrace your life, in any aspect you may find. You'd be surprised that there is still much the world can offer you._

 _Sincerely and Always,_

 _The Marvelous Carol Danvers_

Wordlessly, Hunter folds the letter back up and slides it back into the envelope. Taking the file, she meets Xavier's gaze and nods curtly, "I would appreciate it if ya would allow me to check up on Rogue. I know things couldn't have been easy on her lately."

Xavier agrees, and Hunter forgoes his offered handshake in order to give him a jaunty, mocking salute. Slipping out of the office, Hunter leans against the door and feels a faint tremor crawl up her body.

Carol may not have been a frequent face at the Mansion, but she had been the first to ever show her kindness, without gain. Carol had been the first person Hunter genuinely wanted to make proud.

And that sentiment still rang true.


	2. Chapter One

**Running On Instinct**

 **Summary:**

After the death of Carol Danvers, a mutant known as Hunter finds herself taking up her teacher's mantel as a mutant consultant for SHIELD. Neither party are prepared for everything that follows.

 **Author's Note:**

I do not own any of the Marvel characters you may recognize, nor am I making any profit from this writing. This story is going to follow Hunter, and starts about a two years before the events of the first Iron Man movie. This will follow other movies, but will branch off of canon following the events of Winter Soldier and Ultron. While most of the Avengers story line follows the Marvel Cinematic Universe, all of the X-Men aspects are pulled from comic basis. Now, my original character is a neutrally alligned mutant, so some of her mutant friends are Xavier's, some of them are Brotherhood, and some of them are sold to the highest bidder (Deadpool is known to make visits as he passes through). So, you will be seeing more than just X-Men characters.

Also, this will eventually be a Bucky/OFC story, but will not center around romance. No, this is Hunter's story, and how she overcomes the difficulties her mutation provides her. Let me know what you guys think, leave a review. I like to hear constructive criticism, but do not bash my story. If you don't like it, don't read it.

* * *

 **Chapter One  
** _Assessment_

* * *

When going out in public, especially when one knows they are going to be around humans, most mutants do what they can to blend in. Recalling how very little she cares for, or trusts, humans, Hunter digs into her closet and does what she can to mask her _unique_ qualities. Standing before the mirror, clad in nothing more than a matching black bra-and-panty set, she takes in the sight of the fox ears, clawed fingernails and fluffy, long white-speckled black tail. She may not be able to hide the obvious traits of her mutation, but she _can_ change them. Feeling the subtle shift from her canine attributes to her more feline traits, the fluff along her tail pulls itself inward, stretching a few inches to resemble that of a black panther. The pointed white-tipped ears atop her head shrink, the fur molding itself into a more rounded and smaller set of ears. Her rounded pupils sharpen and thin out, becoming slits and more cat-like. The sharpened, thin claws along the tips of her fingers thicken and retract with each.

It isn't a painful process, but the senses do change with it. Her canine attributes often gift her with heightened senses of smell and hearing, but her feline attributes grant her stronger vision and touch. She is hyperaware of the air brushing along her skin, and the remaining beads of water trailing along her shoulders from her shower. It is disorienting, but familiar.

She chooses a pair of black cargo shorts, the bottoms of her pant legs brushing along beneath her knees. A pair of classic red Chuck Taylor's are worn on her feet, the thin souls less restricting than her usual boots. Her tail wraps around her waist, molding itself along the belt loops of her pants. A white-and-black diagonally striped shirt is pulled over her head, one shoulder bare while both sleeves come to a stop at mid-forearm. Red fingerless gloves made of leather are worn on her hands, the color matching the knitted beanie pulled over her mess of curls. Grabbing her black leather jacket and a pair of reflective-lense Aviator sunglasses, she grabs her keys out of the glass bowl set atop the breakfast bar before heading out of the bi-level loft apartment.

The drive isn't a long one. Apparently SHIELD has several facilities across the country, and the one in New York City happens to be the closest to Westchester County. Locating the nondescript building, she pulls her Ducati into the enclosed parking garage and comes to a stop at the security booth. Handing over her identification card, it becomes _strongly suggested_ that she parks in the sub-level. Parking her bike, she pockets the keys before making her way to the suited man standing at a metal door.

"You must be Hunter."

She recognizes the voice as the one she spoke to on the phone just the previous day and offers him a half-quirked smile, deciding not to flash any fangs, "Aye. You Agent Coulson?'

"I am," He doesn't seem put off when she shakes her head at the offer of a handshake, "I must admit, I didn't expect Ms. Danvers' replacement to be someone so...young."

Hunter doesn't bother hiding the snark behind her mocking jazz hands as she says, "And yet, here I am."

Coulson's lips twitch as he motions for her to follow him through the door, "I can see why Danvers chose you. She had a thing for sass."

"Don't I know it. Bloody wench sassed me in her final farewell letter," Hunter acknowledges with a small smirk, her eyes taking in the enclosed surroundings as she finds herself boxed in. She is only vaguely surprised when there is a subtle shift under her feet just seconds after the door shuts behind them, "Elevator?" At the curt nod, her tongue clicks against the back of her teeth dismissively, "Future warning; you might want t'warn a person. I know my fair share of people that are claustrophobic."

"I will have to remember that," Coulson remarks, his tone light and somewhat cynical.

Leaning against the wall at her back, Hunter's gaze sweeps over the man standing across from. He seems to be of middle age, fit for a human. His hair is cropped short and styled neatly, matching the tailored suit. His stance is calm, a misleading sense of calm really. Her eyes take in the slightest bit of tension, most likely a hyperawareness of their close proximity, maybe even because of her blatant staring. He doesn't seem bothered by it, just aware.

As the shifting below their feet comes to a stop, the wall across from the door slides open and reveals the inner network of halls and rooms. She follows Coulson, watching as passing uniformed agents address him with a respect of a senior officer. She maintains a constant survey of her surroundings, how many steps away from the elevator they take before they turn down a hall, and how many more steps they take before turning down another. She doesn't like being underground. Underground meant there would be a lack of windows. Underground meant that there would be a lack of exit points.

Aside from a lone elevator.

She can feel her mind pinpoint a mental note to familiarize herself with the entire layout of the building structure. She stops in the middle of the hallway, the hairs along the back of her neck standing on attention, feeling her claws slip and her fangs grow more sharp at the subtle change. She hears Coulson's footsteps freeze, but her thoughts are elsewhere. Inhaling deeply, she takes in the light touch of Coulson's cologne, masking a natural scent of sawdust and ocean breeze. Her own scent of deep forests and whiskey. Of gun oil and clean linen.

Of burning fire wood and meadow grass.

Her eyes slide apart and her gaze lifts to the vent above her head, "Is it normal for someone to hide in the ventillation system?"

Coulson's eyes flicker with both surprise and exasperation before he too raises his gaze, "Barton."

Hunter watches the grate pop open and a male human drop from the vent with practiced ease and a silent landing. His dusty blonde hair is cropped short, but messy, most likely from crawling around the vents. His blue eyes are light and without a trace of embarrassment about being caught. His shoulders and upper torso are defined with strong muscles, tight for upper body stength. His waist taipers off more narrow and his legs are made of lean muscle, meant for swift movement and endurance.

"Hunter, this is Agent Clint Barton, or Hawkeye. He's unmatched in sharpshooting and one of our lead stealth operatives. Barton, this is Hunter, Danvers' replacement for the Mutant Liasion position."

"No shit. I don't even think Miss Marvelous herself could find me that fast," Barton offers his hand, "Nice to meet you."

She offers him a cheeky, fanged grin and lifts a hand, wiggling the clawed fingernails as a show, "I don't make a habit of shaking hands, bruv."

"Woah. Danvers chose a Feral?" Barton quips, leaning in slightly to get a better look at her claws, "Can't say I've ever met one. Are they always like that? Because I bet life could be pretty difficult if your fingernails are as sharp as my knives."

Mildly surprised, Hunter feels her fangs shrink slightly and her fingers flex, causing her claws to retract once again, "Depends on the day."

The words barely leave her lips before Barton's hand clasps her own, shaking it mildly as his eyes gleam with curiosity as he looks over her human fingernails, "That's pretty awesome. Is it just claws? You're not like that Wolverine guy are you? Part metal and all that?"

She pulls her hand back, unsure of the situation. Humans don't react like this. Granted the close examination of her claws is enough to make her uncomfortable.

"You can bother her later, Hawkeye. Miss Hunter has a video conference with Director Fury."

"Suck the fun out of everything," Barton mutters under his breath before giving a jaunty wave and once again disappearing through the vent above their heads.

Turning her gaze back on Coulson, she eyes a familiar look made of half exasperation and have tolerated fondness. It's a look she's seen Logan given Remy when the Cajun mutant ran his mouth. It's the look she herself has most likely given to Wade when he won't stop being a pain in the ass. She has seen that look on Rogue's face when Jubliee is chatting about the latest fashion line. Carol had told her that a person may consider another a friend, but still find them to be annoying on some levels. Seeing such a look on Coulson's otherwise stoic face meant that the two knew each other on a level that went deeper than just fellow comrades.

 _People are so...odd._

* * *

Director Nicholas Fury is the type of man that makes Hunter want to raise her hackles at. The dark-skinned man is an enigma, one that is in charge of a top secret agency hidden from the majority of the public and even the government itself. Nick Fury, who _eyes_ her from a screen. She can read people well enough to know she is found wanting, and it makes her fangs sharpen.

"You're a little young for someone of this station."

A fanged grin rears its head as she cocks her head, crossing her arms over her chest in order to hold back the growl threatening to escape her, "I don't take much stock in the judgements of people. Especially someone lacking a certain level of _depth perception_."

"Well, you certainly have Danvers' mouth. I would like to know what made Danvers choose you over every possible candidate."

Flicking a hand out, she ticks off a single clawed finger, "Feral Shifter with heightened senses, accelerated regeneration that is approximately six-times the rate of natural human," Her healing was more on the same level of Remy's, and not near that of Logan's. She ticks off a second finger, "Sensory Observation Imprinting." She sees the man's dark brow quirk in a silent question, "Think of it in terms of a photographic memory, but instead of being able to recall anything I've ever read or every memory, mine is the ability to memorize a person's scent, the sound of their voice." She throws up a third finger, "And the most important, is that I am unalligned."

"Unalligned?" Coulson echoes curiously.

"Most mutants fall into either of two categories; those that believe humans and mutants can live peacefully and are willing to fight to secure such a future, and those that want to eradicate humans from existence. I don't like humans, never had the pleasure of meeting one worth liking; but I sure as bloody hell ain't gonna be killin' a bunch of innocent humans just to get at the selection of bigoted arses givin' everyone a bad name. _That's_ why Carol chose me. If I fight for any cause, it's going to be one for survival, not just of mutant kind."

"How long has Danvers been training you?"

"Since I was sixteen."

"Any weaknesses we should be aware of?"

Hunter thinks over the question. Does the man believe she's going to give him any way of taking her out unawares? Humming, she eyes the dark-skinned man, "I don't do guns, much more comfortable with bladed weapons," She remembers how giddy Wade had been when he found out. "Katana, knives, even a bo staff if need be, but I don't do guns. Also, if ya think for one second that I'm gonna let a single person poke and prod me with any needles, I will track ya down myself and rip your spine out of your arse." She's serious about that one. "So, best bet is to never allow me to wake up anywhere that resembles a hospital."

"Danvers has often stated that many mutants don't take well to hospitals," Coulson mentions.

Hunter nods, "That's right. The only person I can come close to trusting with any medical needs is Doctor Henry McCoy. So, seriously, no doctors." When she sees Fury nod, actually taking her words seriously, "Also, if I am given any type of living quarters here, not that I plan on living here unless I am needed on site, I require a private room and absolutely _no one_ goes in my room." She dips her head forward, allowing her sulfur eyes to peer at Fury in a pointed manner, "This is not out of spite. Mutants like me, Ferals, are very testy about their territory and many of us are more instinct driven than by human compassion. Having a stranger encrouch in my territory without invitation would result in me feeling a desire to challenge said person over the territory. Think 'When Animals Attack' only it would most likely result in a grievious injury and absolutely no guilt on my behalf."

"How serious is this instinct-driven mindset of yours?"

"Seventy-five percent of my reactions will be based off instinct," She doesn't move her gaze from his until he blinks (or is he winking?), "I know how to control it, but that is why I am giving you fair warning beforehand. I don't _like_ killing people, but instinctual mindsets are often driven by a need to survive. Having an unknown cross into my territory would be seen as a challenge. I assure you, that if instincts become too much, I will remove myself until I can get it out of my system."

Fury is quiet for a few moments before he nods, "Very well. Danvers was one of our best assets, so I can only assume she picked her successor properly. Coulson will have a room squared away for you. You can take the rest of the evening to take care of any matters you may need, but I want you there at six-hundred hours Monday. Coulson, have Barton show her around and get her intergrated with how things run and set her up with a basic training regiment to assess her abilities. Agent Hunter," She blinks in surprise at the acknowledgment of her position, "I expect you to stay at the New York Head Quarters for a week. Familiarize yourself with the place and some of the people. Coulson will keep me updated on your assessment."

His acceptance is odd, but she nods curtly. She almost feels like saluting him, but she's pretty damn sure it would be far too sarcastic for the situation. As the video conference comes to an end, Coulson shows her out. Once again mounting her bike, she is surprised when Coulson extends his hand once again.

"Believe it or not, but Danvers often spoke highly of her student. It is nice to finally put a face to the name," Coulson states.

Something about this human is different. While he refers to Carol by her surname, Hunter can see Coulson respected the hell out of her. That is the only reason she lowers her shades, meeting his gaze firmly. He seems mildly interested by her slitted pupils and she carefully clasps his hand, her claws retracting out of respect. She wonders if there is anything in this world that surprises the man enough to make him show more than 'mild' expressions. As he releases her hand, she slips her shades back on and gives him a jaunty, two-fingered salute, "See ya later, bruv."

Retracting the kickstand, she hits the throttle and leaves the garage.

* * *

A knife hits dead center of the dart board.

"A spy?! Of all things you could've done in your life, Kitten, you had to choose being a _spy_?"

 _Timber_. A pub located on the seedier side of Westchester County. A pub Hunter and her fellow mutant Dominique had opened up, acting as a welcome place for mutants of all kinds and relations. With the aroma of beer and spirits mixing with both cigar and cigarette smoke, the pub felt more like a second home than Xavier's ever did. Here, she didn't have to abide by any rules other than the one rule of never bringing personal and political crap into the bar. _Timber_ was also a hub of information that often passed the lips and hands of unalligned mutants, most of them merchant.

Including a certain Merc With A Mouth.

"It's not like it will be a full time job, Wade," Hunter remarks as she watches another one of his throwing knives slam into the dart board, "I'm only supposed to help with any situations that go above the needs of just mutants or humans. Although I am sure I will be required to go on spuradic missions."

Wade walks over to the dart board, hands working to remove the knives. She isn't surprised when he lightly smacks the hilts of the knives against her chest, "If you come anywhere close to dying because of these people, I'm gonna hunt you down and drag you out of there kicking and screaming." She rolls her eyes and brings her hand back, "You know you're my favorite Sugar Puss."

She doesn't even think twice above switching her grip on the knife and bringing her arm down and back, effectively stabbing the mouthy bastard right between two ribs, "You always come close to being my favorite and then you talk."

"Oh Fuck! Seriously, Kitten, I think you got me right in the fucking kidney."

"You'll live."

"Oh fuck you."

"No thanks."

"At least a cuddle."

The bloody knife slams dead center on the dart board, and Hunter flashes her bleeding friend a small, genuine smile, 'Ya crashin' t'night, bruv?"

"Yeah. I have a job in the south and should probably head out tomorrow," the Merc comments as he brings his bloody hand from his side, only to poke at the stab wound, "Why do I even let you around sharp objects?"

"Because I was taught by the best swordsman alive."

Wade grins, brown eyes lit with pride, "Yeah, I am pretty fucking awesome."

"I meant Logan."

"Don't act like a bitch."

"Only when you stop being such a twat," Hunter shoots back as she slips her jacket on.

"Well, you know what they say. You are what you eat."

Hunter flashes a fanged grin, "I guess that explains why you're a total arse."

"Fuck you," Wade calls out, Hunter laughing as she ducks under the swat toward the back of her head, "That was one time and it was a low point in my life."

She cackles as the man follows her toward where her bike is parked, "That suggests you ever raised up from it."

"Oh, I'll show you just how much I can _rise_ to the occasion."

"Dick!"

"That was one time!"

Hunter grins as she hits the throttle once again and speeds away.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Alrght, so there is the official first chapter of the story. Hunter isn't exactly a fan of authority, so while she may distantly respect Fury in the future, she won't always get along with him. As you can see, a few X-Men/Marvel characters will make appearances in the story, but that is just to show the connections she has and the type of people she associates with. She doesn't dislike Xavier, but once again, he is seen as an authority figure. I will plainly state that her relationships with X-Men characters are platonic and familial based. This isn't going to just be a story filled with angst. I want to show you that she is capable of more than just snarking and acting like a bitch. Just in real life, there are people you can work with even if you don't like them, and then there are people that rub you the wrong way. I don't think she is Mary Sue type character, because there are downsides to her abilities and you will learn in future chapters how much her time under Trask really screwed with her.**

 **So, yes, there is a twisted backstory, but Hunter doesn't, and won't, use it as a cruch. There will be fun times, sad times, and all those in between. Please, leave a review and let me know what you think.**

 **Cheers.**


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